


Desperate times

by Quacks



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Pepper Potts, Cutting, Depression, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Human Trafficking, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kidnapped Peter Parker, Kidnapping, Maybe - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, NOT STARKER - Freeform, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Mess, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Prostitution, Protective Avengers, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Protective Tony Stark, Self-Hatred, Sex Work, Sorry Not Sorry, Suicidal Thoughts, This hurts, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Underage Prostitution, What Have I Done, i'm probably missing a lot of tags, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24157948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quacks/pseuds/Quacks
Summary: Everybody always says that Peter is a bad liar. They say his face gives him away instantly, and the pitch of his voice raises an octave or two. May even told Peter that every time he tries to lie his mouth gives an involuntary twitch.What Peter has come to realize over the past couple weeks, is that everyone is wrong. Because he’s been keeping secrets and lying his ass off about it everyday.****Or; Peter starts working as a prostitute after May loses her job. While trying to keep that a secret, and hiding his mental health problems, Mr. Stark decides that's the perfect time to be more involved in Peter's life. Can he keep his secrets secret?
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 93
Kudos: 565





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I am filling this prompt someone asked for. I had half of it written, but I couldn't figure out how to go about finishing. So I was taking a shower and, like all life changing thoughts, I realized that if I combined the original prompt, with another story that I had in the works (that I was also struggling with) it would be perfect. Here I am now, killing two birds with one stone. There might be somethings that don't make sense or a messed up timeline or whatever, if there is, feel free to let me know! 
> 
> Please be mindful this story has trigger content. It mentions depression, self hatred, self harm, and other sensitive topics for some people. 
> 
> But, Thank you to those who do read! 
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos! They make me really happy :)
> 
> ***  
> Edit (05/13/20) I previously mentioned filling this prompt for someone else, but it was the wrong person. So I apologize.

Everybody always says that Peter is a bad liar. They say his face gives him away instantly, and the pitch of his voice raises an octave or two. May even told Peter that every time he tries to lie his mouth gives an involuntary twitch. 

What Peter has come to realize over the past couple weeks, is that everyone is wrong. Because he’s been keeping secrets and lying his ass off about it everyday.

They’re not little secrets either. They’re the kind of secrets that makes a person ashamed of themselves. The kind of secrets you don’t want anyone to know about, because they might look at you differently. 

They’re the secrets that weigh you down everyday, making your body ache whenever you do the simplest of things. They control your thoughts, your actions, your emotions. Some days you feel like you can’t even breathe.

It’s these secrets that have filled Peter’s mind with a darkness that clouds every thought. And sometimes the darkness seems worse than the experiences themselves, which he didn’t think would be possible. It shouldn’t be possible. But it is. And the darkness makes Peter feel like nothing will ever fill the void. He wakes up every night in a cold sweat from nightmares. 

Really, Peter’s problems started after the field trip to D.C., when Peter started to lose control of his emotions. All he wanted to do was stop the alien weapon dealers. But it seemed every time he tried, he just made it worse. 

So he made a plan to talk to May. It was becoming too hard to carry on his own. All he could do was hope that she would help him instead of hate him. 

Everything was planned out. May would get home from work in an hour, she and Peter would make dinner together, and while they worked, Peter would bring it up. He wasn’t planning on telling his aunt everything, but explaining that he was having a hard time seemed easy-ish. 

Peter wasn’t planning on going on a patrol that evening. He knew talking to May could take hours. It was one night. Not a big deal. He’ll just call Happy to let the man know he won’t be going out for the night. It seemed like the right thing to do. Like when you call in to let work know that you’re sick. 

  
* * * * * * * * * * * *

It was no secret that Peter could get overly excited about the most insignificant things. That was just outside of Spider-Man. Anything to do with Spider-Man took Peter’s normal hyper tendencies and turned the dial up to its maximum capacity.

So the phone calls Happy would receive once, sometimes twice, a night could be a little overwhelming. And while Happy didn’t have to talk to the kid directly on the phone, he still had to listen to the voice messages to make sure the kid wasn’t getting into trouble. Usually, Happy would just play the message on speaker while he was doing other things around his apartment.

On this particular Tuesday, Happy was not in the mood to listen to a teenager ramble on about churros and handwritten notes. He had a bad day. The last thing he wants is to listen to stupid stories about stupid things.

When his phone rang earlier than normal, he groaned as he let his head drop on his desk. This kid is going to drive him nuts. With frustration and annoyance boiling up inside, Happy did something he’s never done. He answered it. 

“Look kid.” Happy started with no greeting. “These phone calls are getting a little ridiculous. I don’t need you filling up my inbox with detailed explanations of how you helped an old lady cross the street, or about how upset you are after someone refuses your help. It’s pathetic. All I need from you are any important details from your patrol. If nothing falls under the category of Avengers-level-threat, then I don’t need a phone call. I am busy. Mr. Stark is busy. We don’t care. You’re a superhero, you don’t need someone to coddle you. Grow up and figure it out. Stop wasting my time.” 

And with that off his chest, Happy hung up without a second thought about how harsh he had been. If it gets the kid to leave him alone, then that’s all that matters. 

From that night, Peter learned one thing. 

Sad feelings make you pathetic. 

So, he would plaster on a smile and hoped no one could see the empty, unfeeling darkness that hides in his eyes, or the way his hands shake whenever someone gets too close. His plan for talking to May was forgotten. 

* * *

  
After the vulture - after the building collapsed on him - the clouds grew darker. It became harder to breathe. Walking into buildings caused anxiety to seep into his core.

The first time Peter went back to school after the vulture, he had a panic attack in the middle of his history class. His teacher had been showing a video from world war 2 as bombs demolished a small village.

When he calmed down, his teacher walked him down to the nurses office. The school had to call May, and Peter didn’t know what to tell her. The truth was not an option. How is he supposed to explain to his Aunt that every time he’s about to walk into a building, the first thing he thinks is ‘what if the building collapses’?

And Peter knows he can’t avoid buildings. That would be crazy. But it doesn’t mean he has to like going in them. And it definitely does not mean that the anxiety he feels every time he’s in a building goes away. He can’t even go into his apartment building without expecting the worst to happen.

A week after that experience, Mr. Stark invites Peter to officially become an Avenger. Peter has no choice but to decline. How can he be an Avenger - one of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes - if he can’t even enter a building without risking an anxiety attack?

Hell, if Mr. Stark even knew about any of Peter’s secrets, he would probably take the suit away. The man would see how undeserving Peter is of having it. 

So, with the fear of people finding out about his secrets, Peter goes about his normal routine. He smiles when he has to, he laughs at all the right places, he’ll even throw in a joke or two. Maybe if he can fake being happy, one day he will actually be happy. 

Speaking of happy; there is one thing that Peter changed. Since the night Happy snapped at Peter, he’s stopped all contact with the man. He doesn’t call Happy, he doesn’t text him updates, and he doesn’t answer the man’s calls. Happy wanted him to back off, and that’s exactly what Peter is doing. 

Then he came home from patrol one night, and everything got worse. 

Usually, when Peter comes back from patrol, May is sleeping soundly in the next room. The first thing Peter does when he enters the apartment is listen for his aunt’s steady heartbeat and even breathing. It’s the thing he falls asleep to, knowing that his last remaining family member is still alive. 

Tonight though, there’s quiet sniffling and muffled sobs. Quickly changing out of his suit, Peter goes to find his aunt. May is sitting at the kitchen table, papers spread across the surface, looking at the old laptop Peter built for her years ago. Her eyes are red, and she has stained tear tracks lining her cheeks. “May?” He calls softly, so he didn’t startle her. 

“Peter!” She looks at him with wide eyes, closing her laptop and gathering up the letters. “I didn’t realize how late it is.”

“What’s wrong?” Peter asks, sitting in a chair next to May. “I heard you crying.”

Sighing, May stops trying to hide the bills. Her eyes water as she stares at her lap. “I was fired today.”

“What? Why?” May being fired is definitely not a good thing. As much as his aunt tries to hide it from him, Peter knows that they have been struggling financially, barely able to support themselves every month. 

“Cut backs.” She admits, tears freely running down her face again. “Fuck, I didn’t want you to know, but I haven’t been able to pay the full rent for a few months since they raised it and now…” May hands Peter one of the letters. 

Evicted.

Peter’s stomach drops and his own tears spring into his eyes. Where are they going to live? Are they going to have to move? May has a sister in Arizona, but Peter can’t go to Arizona. He’s Spider-Man. 

“I’ll get a job.” Peter offers before he can comprehend what he’s saying.

“No.” May shakes her head. “No, Peter. I can’t ask you to do that.” 

“You’re not asking.” He counters. “I’m offering. I’m 16. I can get a job, and I’m sure there are lots of places that will work around my schooling. Besides, I eat enough to feed the entire apartment building for a week so the least I can do is help pay for some of it.” 

They sit quietly while May contemplates Peter’s offer. She doesn’t want her nephew to work because he already has a full schedule. It wouldn’t be fair to him. Then again, if Peter can work until she gets her first paycheck at her next job, it would be a huge help. It would just be a few weeks. “Only if you really want to, Peter. And just until I get settled into a new job. Deal?”

“Deal!” Peter readily agrees, grateful that his aunt is letting him help. Now he just needs to find a job, which should be easy. Right?

Wrong. 

It’s been a week since May lost her job and neither of them are closer to getting a job now than they were then. Who knew so many places would want experienced workers in entry level positions? It doesn’t make sense. Or the few places that don’t require experience, aren’t willing to work with his schedule. It’s frustrating! 

The food in their pantry and fridge is starting to dwindle, and the money that May had been saving for groceries, she put towards paying the apartment complex in hopes of catching up on the missed payments. They have a month to either move out, or pay what they owe in debt. So with any income going towards rent, they haven’t been able to get groceries. 

Peter’s just grateful he is on a scholarship for school, meaning he gets free tuition and lunch. It’s not ideal, but the free lunches are the only thing Peter has been eating for the past week. He doesn’t let May know that he’s doing it - leaving the house before she can notice he hasn’t eaten, or claiming to have already had dinner when she comes back late from job hunting. His stomach is constantly hurting, but he’s gotten used to ignoring it.

Both May and Peter try to be home before it gets dark. New York is dangerous during the day, so you can only imagine how much worse it is at night. Their unspoken rule, however, doesn’t stop them from staying out as late as possible. 

It doesn’t always happen though. For example, tonight. Peter was on the opposite side of Queens, interviewing for a position at a convenient store - which he didn’t get. The interview was longer than Peter had expected, and by the time he got out, it was dark. Cursing under his breath, Peter started his walk home. He had stupidly left his suit at home in his backpack so he couldn’t swing back. And his phone had died right before the interview meaning he couldn’t call May. 

Relying on his weird sixth sense, Peter kept his head down as he went. There were a few times he would start to feel a buzz at the base of his neck, and each time he would hide at the entrance of an alley until the feeling went away. He really wasn’t worried about someone hurting him, but he’d rather not have to deal with stupid criminals right now. 

Halfway home, Peter passed by a busy bar with drunk people stumbling in and out of the building. Like everything else, Peter kept walking, ignoring the people around him. Except someone stepped in his path, blocking him from going forward. 

“Where are you going, pretty boy?” The man slurred. His dark eyes kept roaming up and down Peter’s body and he had to suppress the shiver it sent down his spine. “What do you say about me taking you home with me? For a pretty face like yours, I’d be willing to pay a high price to get to spend a night with you.” 

“What the fuck?” Peter asked, not sure if he heard the man correctly. Did this stranger really just offer to pay for Peter to sleep with him? What a creep. “I’m not a prostitute.” He defended, trying to walk around the man. 

“Well you should be. I bet most people would be willing to pay anything you want just for a nice with such a young face.” The man shrugged. “My offer still stands.”

“No!” Peter finally passed the man, half wondering if he was dreaming. There’s no way Peter would dream about that though. 

The rest of Peter’s walk home went by without any problems or warning tingles. Walking into the apartment, Peter was surprised to hear May already asleep. She had left a note on the counter, telling Peter that there were left overs in the fridge if he wanted any. Despite the fact that he is hungry, he was feeling nauseous after his interaction with the stranger, so he decided to follow his aunt’s lead and go to bed early. 

Peter spent the whole night tossing and turning, unable to focus on anything but offer the man made. He’s heard stories about sex workers making bank, and they could really use the money. But no. Peter is not going to sleep with strangers just to make a few bucks. They aren’t that desperate. 

A loud growl was his stomach’s way of disagreeing with his reasoning. They are kind of getting to the desperate side of things. Besides, if anyone tries to hurt him, he’s Spider-Man. His enhanced healing will fight off any diseases, so he doesn’t have to worry about that. And if what the man said is true about people liking a younger face, then he could really make some good money. Shit. Is he really contemplating being a sex worker?

The next day, Peter couldn’t focus on anything other than the possibility of making money. He could pull it off. He’ll just tell May that he found a job somewhere else, and this work won’t interfere with his schooling or Spider-Man. And, like May said, it will only be temporary, so he really won’t have to do it for long. 

It would have been easier to forget the offer and move on with looking for a normal job, except when the food ran low, Peter got desperate. When at school or on patrol, Peter can ignore the constant grumbling from his stomach. It’s the times when he is sitting still that the pain radiates to his very core, consuming every thought. 

Today, for the most part, Peter has tried to keep himself moving or busy. On patrol he even resorted to walking alongside random strangers asking them about their day’s, just so he had something to focus on. 

Even though he has only been out for a couple hours, and it’s barely dark outside, Peter is contemplating calling it a night. Landing on the top of a building, Peter overlooks the streets, double checking that there isn’t any crime currently happening. It’s then that he sees it. 

Four blocks over, Peter recognizes the same bar from the other night. The same bar the guy stopped Peter, thinking he was a prostitute. The same bar, with the same guy sitting outside. 

Peter doesn’t realize that he started moving until he’s shooting a web at a nearby building, pulling himself in the direction of the bar. He should stop. He shouldn’t be going to talk to the man. He should turn around, and head back the way he came. 

But he just has a few questions. Like, how much is the typical nightly pay? Or how does he get clients?

After stopping to change behind a dumpster, Peter approaches the man. “Excuse me?” He asks, suddenly intensely aware of what he’s doing. 

The man turns to look at Peter, a large grin spreading across his face as he recognizes the young teen. “Well, hello again. I knew I’d see you around here again. Did you change your mind?”

“I, uh, just had a few questions.” Peter answered, trying to sound more confident than he currently felt. Is he really doing this?

“About?” The man prompted. 

“The other night.” Peter is tempted to walk away. This is a bad idea. He isn’t that desperate. But a painfully sharp twist of his stomach, reminds him that he is, in fact, desperate. “When you asked me to go home with you. You said that people would pay more because I look young. How much are people willing to pay for me?”

Smirking, the man swung an arm over Peter’s shoulders, pulling the kid into his side and leading him down the sidewalk. “I, for one, would be willing to pay double. Especially because I’m assuming you’re still a virgin.”

Peter blushed, ducking his head hoping the man wouldn’t see while he nodded. “I knew it. Lucky for you, I have connections. Tomorrow night, there’s an auction, and I have a feeling you are going to be the big money maker this week. I keep 40 percent of what is bid on you, the rest is yours to keep. What do you say, kid?”

Big money maker. That doesn’t sound half bad. Depending on how much he makes, maybe this could just be a one time thing. And then he won’t have to worry about being hungry anymore, and May won’t have to be so stressed about finding a job and paying rent. 

It really doesn’t take Peter as long as it should have to agree. “Good choice, kid. Meet me here at 7 tomorrow. Maybe wear something a little tighter - we want to show off the muscles you are keeping hidden.” 

With that, the man pulled himself off Peter, and turned back toward the bar. Peter stood on the dark sidewalk for a moment, watching the man walk away. This is happening. Okay. 

Fuck. Peter’s going to auction off his virginity. 

The next day went by in a blur. Between trying to ignore his complaining stomach, and feeling nervous for the night’s events, Peter was stuck in his head, completely oblivious to his surroundings. The only time he was aware that he was moving, was when he was eating his school lunch. 

He never realized how amazing cafeteria food could be. Or maybe he was just hungry. Either way, the questionable hamburger and soggy french fries he was eating seemed like a gourmet meal at a five star restaurant. Peter wanted to cry when the food was gone, and his stomach was still rumbling. Oh well, he thought, by the end of the night he’ll have money, and then he can get a real burger.

After school, Peter attempted to work on some homework, but it was useless. He was too nervous. Who would he be auctioned off to? Would it be a man or woman? Not that he really cares, he’s willing to try both, but each one requires different prep.

Peter’s not completely naive about sex. He’s watched porn before, and has experimented with different types of masturbation. Just because he hasn’t had a partner to assist in getting him off, doesn’t mean he is inexperienced. 

When he was getting nowhere with his homework, Peter decided to start getting ready. He took a long shower - making sure to clean every inch on himself. It’s a good thing May isn’t home. She would start asking questions, and Peter knows he can’t keep a secret from her to save his life. 

For his outfit, Peter pulled out a plain white t-shirt that he’s had since before the spider bite. The only time he wore it was as an undershirt for his button ups or sweaters. It was too small, and did nothing to hide the abs he gained as Spider-Man. He chooses some dark skinny jeans to go with the shirt, and throws on a simple hoodie before leaving his apartment. 

With the Spider-Man suit tucked securely away at the bottom of his backpack, Peter is just looking forward to making some money. Sure, the way he’s going about doing it sucks. But, it could be worse. Somehow. 

Nothing about this situation is ideal. Peter had always thought that he’d lose his virginity to someone he really cared about. Not some stranger who can’t get anyone to sleep with them without paying money. 

It doesn’t matter that he’s having to resort to something so degrading and demeaning. Peter doesn’t deserve anything better. He’s already at the bottom of the barrel. Everyone knows that he’s a screw up, so what’s one more thing added to that list?

Maybe this will help with the empty feeling resting in his stomach. Maybe it will take away some of the lingering numbness that the blades don’t cover. It’s something to make him feel. To let him know that he’s still alive. 

He tried different ways to make himself feel something. Nothing worked. Except for the tiny razor blades. One night became two, two became three, and it just spiraled from there. Peter now has a row of scars that cut across his upper thigh. At first the cuts would heal like every other injury. But after a while, the pink line stopped fading. He didn’t think seeing a lasting scar would help him feel more. It does though.

Sometimes, when he’s just barely starting to go numb, Peter can just look at the scars and feel the phantom pain from all the previous cuts. Sometimes that’s enough. But not always. 

And that’s what this new job is for. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment or kudos! <3 They make me happy :)
> 
> Enjoy!

The first night, Peter made six hundred dollars from the auction. Meaning, the highest bidder paid one thousand dollars for a night with him. It felt nice to be wanted by so many people. That is until the stranger fucked him six ways from Sunday. 

The sting that lingered when the bidder kicked Peter out of their house less than five minutes after taking his virginity, really really sucked. It’s not that Peter expected to be coddled or cared for, but he barely had time to get dressed before he was booted to the curb. 

But it was a familiar feeling. The feeling of being forgotten, pushed aside, thrown out like trash. That’s all Peter will ever be good for. People come and go in life, using him however they please, and then they just leave. 

That’s what this job is though. Every person Peter is going to be auctioned off to, is going to fuck him like it’s the end of the world, then act like he’s the scum of the earth. Isn’t that partially why he took the job? Because he doesn’t deserve to be treated any other way? 

Regardless of the reasons why, Peter’s been doing this job for a month now. May thinks he got a job stocking shelves in a grocery store, and doesn’t ask questions besides a simple ‘how was your day’. It’s routine. He goes to school, does his homework, patrols the city, ignores Happy’s calls, fucks a stranger, and goes home. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

Until Peter came home from school to find - for the second time in his life - Tony Stark sitting on his couch. Aunt May walked out of the kitchen, two cups of coffee in hand.

“Oh, Peter! I didn’t hear you come in.” May placed the mugs on the coffee table before giving Peter a hug. “How was school?”

Ignoring the smirk Mr. Stark was giving him, Peter mumbled a quick “fine” in response to May’s inquiry. 

“So, Peter, “ Mr. Stark said casually after May released the teen from her embrace. “I hear you’ve been ghosting Happy.” 

Shit. 

Peter’s mouth went dry. He tried swallowing a few times, but his tongue just seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth. 

Looking between the two adults with expectant expressions on their faces, Peter tried to think of a valid reason - that wasn’t the truth - to explain why he wasn’t answering Happy’s calls. “Oh. I-I wasn’t g-ghosting him. Not on p-purpose. I’ve just been, uh, busy.” Peter was finally able to sputter out. He knew it was a lame excuse, but it’s the best his mind could come up with. 

Mr. Stark raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing Peter. “Uh-huh, sure. That’s not why I’m here though. Pepper and May think it would be good if once a week you were to come work in the lab with me.” 

Peter’s jaw dropped. 

Mr. Stark was asking him to come to his lab to work with him? 

This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Everything in Peter was screaming at him to say yes. But he couldn’t. His job requires a lot of time, and if he hangs out with Mr. Stark, the man might start to suspect something. There’s also the whole, ‘I’m hiding the fact that I am severely depressed and should probably get some help’ issue. 

He has a tendency to let his mind wander while he’s tinkering. On more than one occasion, Peter has had to stop working because unwelcomed tears would start dripping onto the table. Half the time he wasn’t even aware that he was crying until the first drop fell. If he worked in the lab with Mr. Stark, he runs the risk of losing control in front of the man. And that would be bad. 

He looked at Mr. Stark, feigning his best sheepish look, and sighing heavily. “That sounds incredible, Mr. Stark, but I can’t accept.” 

May gasped from her spot next to Peter, obviously not expecting that answer. “What do you mean you ‘can’t accept’?” She asked him. 

Shrugging his shoulders, Peter just watched as the expression on Mr. Stark's face went from shocked, to confused, to angry. “You can’t accept?” The man asked, his voice straining as he tried to keep it at a normal level. 

“No, sir.” Peter bowed his head. He hated that he was letting these secrets control his life, but he didn’t have any other choice. He didn’t want his suit taken away again. 

“Hmm.” The man mused humorlessly. “Why not?” 

Peter snapped his head up. He hadn’t thought about what his excuse would be. “Uh, I um, already have so much on my plate. Between school, academic decathlon, work, and Spider-Man, I don’t have room for anything else. I really appreciate the offer, Mr. Stark. I do, I just don’t have the time.” 

Wow, that was an impressive and believable lie. This constant lying is really paying off... He probably shouldn’t be proud of that.

“You’re working?” Mr. Stark asked. Peter had never mentioned it to the man. Then again, he never actually talked to Mr. Stark after Germany. “What if I pay you to be my intern?”

“No!” Peter practically yelled. He hadn’t meant to, it just kind of happened. He and May are not a charity case. Peter has a job. A job that he hates, but a job. It works for them. Clearing his throat, Peter tried to recover. “I-I mean, you don’t have to do that. I like my job. Mr. Delmar is great.” 

“I’m sure I can pay you a lot more than your current place.” Mr. Stark countered, trying not to look like he was a little hurt by the rejection. “Besides, this will look better on a resume.” 

Rolling his eyes, Peter scoffed. “I don’t need you to help me. May and I are doing just fine on our own. We don’t need you to swoop in to save the day.” Peter is annoyed. Why won’t the man just take no for an answer? It’s ridiculous. Don’t get him wrong, Peter would love to quit the current job, but then he’d be around Mr. Stark more. He won’t do it. He can’t risk it. “If you don’t have anything else to talk about, I’ve got a bunch of homework I need to do.” 

And with that, Peter grabbed his backpack and left the room. He was careful not to slam his door as he entered his room. Throwing his backpack on the chair by his desk, Peter flopped on the bottom bunk of his bed. He cursed as a few tears slipped onto his cheeks, praying that neither of them came to talk to him. 

Turning down the offer hurt. His whole life, Peter had dreamed about working alongside Mr. Stark. Why does he have to be such a screw up? It’s just who he is. Peter messes up every good thing that happens in his life.

“I am so sorry, Tony. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” May says from the other room. Enhanced hearing is really a bitch sometimes. 

“It’s not your fault, May.” Tony replied. 

“I’ll talk to him. Maybe I can get him to change his mind.” 

“Don’t worry too much about it. I don’t want to force Peter into doing something he doesn’t want.” 

“Trust me, Tony. I know Peter. He wants this.” 

Their conversation finished after that. Peter hears May sigh as she closes the door behind Mr. Stark. He knows his aunt well enough to know that she will leave him alone until dinner. 

Fuck. Talking to May is a whole other problem. Maybe he should just accept the offer to work in Tony’s lab. Then he could blame his initial rejection on a bad day at school or something. As much as Peter doesn’t want to risk spending extra time with Mr. Stark, it is the only option that doesn’t end with Peter eventually telling May what he’s really been doing to make money. His aunt will never believe any excuses for why he’s willingly turning down the offer for more money, doing something that he loves.

With his mind decided, Peter swallows down the sobs that are building in his chest. It will be fine. One day a week shouldn’t be too hard to manage.

  
  


* * *

Peter talked to May. 

He lied. 

He told her that he was stressing about all of his school work, and when Mr. Stark offered, the prospect of adding more to his plate felt overwhelming. He said that after having time to clear his head, he is feeling better and will work in the lab with Mr. Stark. 

Thankfully, May believed it. Or if she didn’t, she didn’t say anything. She just gave Peter a hug, telling him that if it gets to be too much, he can back out. 

‘Sure’ Peter thought. ‘Because the initial rejection of the offer went over so well.’ 

But he didn’t tell his aunt what he was thinking. He hugged her tighter, knowing that she just wants what's best for him. 

After he called Mr. Stark to apologize and accept his offer, the man would insist that instead of one day a week, they change it to two. Two days where Peter would have to push his already pushed emotional limits. And it wasn’t just for working in the lab either. Mr. Stark wanted Peter to eat dinner with himself and the Avengers. Plus, on those days, Peter wouldn’t be able to work. Which, okay, he isn’t really complaining, but he and May still need the money.

Oh, and there’s another issue. The Avengers? Yeah, they have no idea that a 15 year old high school student is your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. So you know, now Peter has to deal with convincing some of the most highly trained spies that he is 1) a normal teenager, and 2) a happy normal teenager who secretly works as a prostitute. 

It is reasonable that, on the morning of the first lab day, Peter is freaking out. 

He’s waiting by his locker, anxiously checking his backpack to make sure he has everything for his first few classes. The familiar tingle of his spider sense warns him of a threat. He doesn’t have to look to know Flash Thompson is standing behind him. 

“Parker.” The bully demands, gaining the attention of a few surrounding students. Peter clenches his teeth as he slowly turns around to face the sneering boy. “Give me your lunch.” 

Every ounce of Peter wants to roll his eyes at the stereotypical bullying tactic. “Why?” Peter questions. He’s not in the mood for Flash. There is too much weighing on his mind today. Flash will just have to take a number and wait his turn like every other problem in Peter’s life. 

“Because I want it.” Flash shrugged. “The maid forgot to make mine this morning and I refuse to eat the slop in the cafeteria.” 

“I’m not giving you my lunch, Flash.” Peter made to turn away from the bully, only to be stopped by a hand roughly grabbing his shoulder.

“I wasn’t done with you.” Flash pushed Peter’s back against his locker. “And I wasn’t asking. Give me your lunch.” 

It was stupid, Peter knows this. He should have just given Flash his lunch, but with his enhanced metabolism, not eating isn’t really an option. “No.” 

A fist connected with Peter’s stomach, forcing him to double over. Flash reached past Peter into the open locker, and pulled out the brown paper sack his lunch was in. He looked inside the bag, taking in inventory of what Peter had brought. 

There wasn’t much. May was planning on grocery shopping today, so all Peter brought was a ham sandwich, granola bar, and an apple. It wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy Peter’s nutritional needs, but it was better than nothing. 

Flash didn’t seem to agree. 

The bully scoffed at the contents of the bag, before dropping it on the floor. “Wow, your lunch is almost as pathetic as you.” Then he stomped on Peter’s lunch. Pieces of splattered apple shot out the open end of the bag and Peter could hear the crunch of his granola bar under Flash’s foot. 

Peter stared at his ruined lunch, rapidly blinking back the tears that were stinging his eyes. For a few seconds Peter felt like he couldn’t move. He was completely shocked by what happened.

It didn’t last long as the bell rang, pulling Peter out of his thoughts. After closing his locker, Peter picked up the paper bag, throwing it in the trash. It wouldn’t be fair if he left it for the janitors to clean up.

The rest of his day only got worse from there. 

First, his teacher called him out in front of the class after Peter had tried to subtly correct a mistake the teacher made on the homework. The teacher told him that just because he has the highest grades in the class, it doesn’t make him “special”. 

Then, the school had a fire drill, which did not help with Peter’s sensitive hearing, leaving him with a pounding headache. 

After that, he tried to buy lunch, but of course, he didn’t have enough funds, so he went hungry. That only made his headache worse, and his stomach start to twist uncomfortably. 

Because he went without lunch, his stomach was growling violently for the rest of the day. Apparently, having a growling stomach is cause for detention. His teacher said that he kept interrupting the class. 

To say that Peter had a bad day would be putting it lightly.

He walked out of the doors after the final bell rang, ready to collapse on his bed. All his energy is drained. Peter can feel the facade slipping from his face. He just needs to get far enough away from the school before he can let it fall completely. May has a job interview this afternoon so she won’t be home for a few hours. Peter walked down the steps of the school, putting his earbuds in place. 

When he first got his powers, Peter put together a playlist of songs that help calm his senses. He usually uses it when he is having a sensory overload, but he’s started using it when he’s having a bad mental health day. It was comforting.

As Peter walked away from the school, he could hear the sound of a car honking, but he didn’t think anything of it. Lots of parents were picking up their kids. And they’re in New York. The only time a car is not honking is, well, never. Peter has never not been able to hear someone laying it on the horn. 

Peter was a block from reaching the subway when his spider sense tingled again. He stopped himself from crossing the street right as a sleek black car pulled in front of his path. The dark tinted window on the passenger side rolled down to reveal an angry looking Happy. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The man growled.

“Happy, wha-” Peter tried to ask before Happy cut him off. 

“Get in the car.” 

Getting in the car is the last thing Peter wants to do. First of all, why was Happy even here? The man never contacted him unless it was Spider-Man related. And second, Peter is not eager to ride in a car with someone as angry as Happy currently looks. Not after the day he’s had. 

Shaking his head, Peter started to back away from the car. He isn’t trying to be rude, but he knows that he is close to his breaking point. At this point, it’s all a matter of survival. In order for Peter to survive - without giving away his problems - he needs to go home. “I think I’m okay. I’d rather walk home.” 

Giving a small wave to the now fuming Happy, Peter went to walk around the car. If he hurried, he could still make it before the subway left. 

“Are you really going to ditch your first lab day with Mr. Stark?” Happy yelled after him, voice filled with disbelief. 

Peter froze. 

Damn it. 

Lab day was today. 

The worst day - emotionally - that Peter can ever remember having. 

Closing his eyes, Peter tried to stop the wetness in his eyes. He took several deep breaths then opened his eyes, walking back to the window, defeated. “I forgot about that.” 

“Yeah, well now you know. Get in.” Happy said impatiently. 

As soon as Peter shut the door after climbing into the backseat, Happy took off weaving in and out of traffic. He didn’t even wait for Peter to buckle his seat belt. Which, they are only going 20mph, max. But still, it’s the thought that counts. 

It felt especially quiet in the car. Happy was still muttering about other people’s driving skills, but all Peter could hear was his heart pounding in his ears. He kept his gaze focused on his hands as he flipped his phone over and over again. His knee was bouncing uncontrollably, and his jaw was clenched so tight it was starting to hurt. There were a few times when he had to wipe a tear from his eye before it fell. The anxiety that filled him, turned his stomach, making Peter have to swallow back the urge to vomit. 

Actually, maybe if he vomits he can get out of this?

But that’s a maybe. And hypothetical. Peter would never purposefully make himself sick all over the back of someone else’s car. That would be rude. He’s depressed, not disrespectful. 

“Kid?” Happy called from the front. By the tone in his voice, Peter figured it wasn’t the first time the man had tried to gain his attention. “We’re here. Get out.” 

Mumbling a quiet ‘sorry’, Peter scrambled out of the car, grabbing his backpack from the floor. He followed as Happy walked him to a private elevator. 

The ride up was silent. Peter would not be the first to speak. At one point, Peter wouldn’t have had an issue talking the man’s ear off, but after Happy snapped at him over the phone, Peter wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. 

When the elevator doors opened, the blasting of music instantly pierced Peter’s ears. He can’t stop himself as his hands clap over his ears, trying to block out the noise. The headache he had before was now a migraine, and he could see little black dots in the corners of his vision. 

Mr. Stark walks over to them, smiling wide. Peter forces himself to lower his hands. “Glad you could make it!” The man practically yells over the music. 

“C-can you turn the volume down?” Peter asks. Requesting for a quieter room isn’t something that hints towards a person having mental health problems, right? 

“What?” Mr. Stark gasps, placing a hand over his chest in mock horror. “Turn down my music?” He scoffs. “Never!” 

Almost as if to prove a point, Mr. Stark turned the music louder, shouting “Come on, a little music never hurt anyone.” 

Oh how funny the irony would be, if weren’t for the fact that the music was, indeed, causing Peter an immense amount of pain. He just forced his hands to stay at his sides, and walked further into the room.

Mr. Stark led him around the lab, showing him the different projects he was working on. Peter just had to say ‘wow’ or ‘that’s so cool’ and the engineer seemed happy with the responses he was getting. And that’s how it went for two hours. 

For two hours, Peter tried to concentrate on the projects Mr. Stark was showing him. He had to stop himself from groaning in pain every time his head throbbed. His skin felt like it was on fire, and the things he touched felt like sharp pins poking into his hands and fingers. 

He was so close to losing control. His knees kept trying to buckle under him, and the room would spin anytime he moved his head. Peter was about to make up an excuse to leave when FRIDAY spoke. “Boss, Mr. Rogers would like me to inform you that dinner is ready.”

Mr. Stark looked down at his watch, before cursing. “We’ve probably got ten minutes to get up there before Steve gets mad.” He said, standing from his stool. “I usually wouldn’t care, but I’d like them to think I’m a good influence on you.” Peter took a step to follow Mr. Stark to the elevator, but his legs were shaking too bad. He fell to his knees before he could catch himself. 

The room went dark as red hot pain shot through his entire body. 

When his eyes opened, Mr. Stark was kneeling next to Peter. “Welcome back to the land of the living Mr. Parker.” He joked. 

He opened his mouth to start apologizing, but all that came out was a tiny whimper. Pain was still radiating throughout his body. He just needs to go home. Focusing more, Peter tried to talk again. “I think I should probably go home.” 

“What? Why?” Mr. Stark asked, his eyebrows narrowing. “Did you get hurt on patrol last night? Is that why you’re acting so weird today?” 

“I didn’t patrol last night,” Peter answered.

“Let me rephrase my question. Are you hurt?” The man huffed.

‘Yes’ Peter thought. “No, I’m fine. I just didn’t eat enough today and got light headed.” Which is not necessarily a lie. The lack of food probably played some part in him blacking out. 

Mr. Stark rolled his eyes as he stood. “Well, we were on our way to eat dinner, so that solves the problem. No need for you to leave early.” He held a hand out to Peter, pulling the teen to his feet. 

It took a few seconds for Peter to gain his balance. He slowly, cautiously tested his ability to stand on his own. The room wasn’t spinning anymore, and his knees weren’t shaking too bad, so Peter took the first step. 

Mr. Stark started again towards the elevators, this time staying closer to Peter. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets so the man wouldn’t notice how bad his hands are shaking. It’s not that he’s nervous - well, yes he is - but he’s in more pain than he thought possible. 

“You know, I’m still waiting on an answer for why you’ve been unusually quiet today.” Mr. Stark pointed out as the elevator doors shut, watching Peter closely. 

Peter just gave a halfhearted shrug, not taking his eyes off the door. “I’m just hungry, I guess.” 

“You guess? Fri, stop the elevator.” Mr. Stark said as he turned his whole body to look at Peter, eyebrows raised.

Resisting the urge to cower in on himself, Peter takes a step back from Mr. Stark. “What are you doing? We’re gonna be late.” 

“I don’t give a rats ass about being late.” Mr. Stark rolled his eyes. “What’s going on with you?” 

“W-what do you m-mean?” Peter mentally curses himself for stuttering.

Mr. Stark scoffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Don’t play dumb with me kid. I know something’s up. First, you start avoiding Happy.” The man starts counting off on his fingers. “Then, you turn down my offer to work in the lab. You just passed out in my lab and the only explanation is that you’re hungry? So I’ll ask again, what is going on with you?”

“N-nothing.” Peter answers, not meeting the man’s gaze. “It’s nothing.”

“Ah-ha! So you admit that you are hiding something.” Mr. Stark smirked. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. Just tell me what it is.” 

Shaking his head, Peter gripped the straps of his backpack tighter. “Please, Mr. Stark. It’s nothing. Can we just go eat dinner?” 

It looked like Mr. Stark was going to argue, but Peter’s stomach growled loudly. “You know I’m going to find out one way or another.” The man shrugged. “But fine, let’s go. FRIDAY?” 

The elevator started moving again, and Peter felt like he could breathe again. Mr. Stark may not be letting it go, but Peter has more time now to come up with an excuse the man will - hopefully - believe. 

When the doors opened, Peter stumbled at the sight of all of the Avengers - his childhood heroes - spread throughout the living room. Mr. Stark's living room. A place Peter never thought he’d ever see. What is his life? 

How can someone, who’s life is filled with crazy once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, not be happy? Peter is literally standing in front of the earth’s mightiest heroes, but he’s not excited. All he wants to do is go home. 

Ungrateful. Add that to the list of Peter’s worst qualities. So far he has: pathetic, weak, liar, annoying, and now ungrateful. 

He doesn’t deserve any of this. 

Pushing back the negative thoughts, Peter planted a smile on his face, hoping it would be convincing enough for some of the most observant people. 

Mr. Stark clapped a hand on Peter’s shoulder, leading him into the room. “Hey guys.” He said, gaining the attention of everyone. “This is Peter. My Intern.” 

Peter gave a small wave. “Hi. I-it’s nice to m-meet you all.” 

“You know, Stark, when you said your intern was a kid, I was thinking more of an adult child. Not an actual child-child.” Hawkeye said from his spot on the couch. 

Rolling his eyes, Mr. Stark led Peter through the room, introducing him to each person. It was all a little overwhelming, but then again, what wasn’t. 

It didn’t take long before they were all seated around a large dining room table. Mr. Rogers had made lasagna. It was really good, but the noise from all the different conversations was making Peter’s head hurt again. He was starting to feel nauseous, so he only ate a few bites. His enhanced metabolism was not satisfied, but if he ate anymore he would probably be sick. 

So far, people have only asked him a handful of questions. Which is good, because he can barely focus on what others are saying at this point.

Everyone started laughing at a joke Mr. Barton told, causing Peter to flinch at the sudden noise. His hands jerked to cover his ears, but he stopped them before he drew attention to himself. 

He slid his hands back under the table, stealing a quick glance around to make sure no one had seen. When he made eye contact with Ms. Romanov his stomach dropped a little. She had one eyebrow raised, looking at him questioningly. Had she seen? Quickly tearing his gaze away, Peter focused back onto the half-empty plate in front of him. 

Mr. Stark turned his attention to Peter, his eyes flickering down to the half eaten portion of lasagna. He raised an eyebrow at Peter, and was about to question it when his phone started to ring. He looked at the caller-ID, then showed it to Peter. 

May Parker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler: I love ending my chapters in a cliffhanger. So I apologize in advance. 
> 
> Anyway, Thanks for reading! I know I said last chapter that I will be updating on the weekend, but I might update sooner. It all depends on my homework load, and how quickly I get other prompts filled. 
> 
> Also, thank you to those who gave me a tag to add. I really suck at tagging, and I often forget a few important ones, so let me know if you notice one that I missed. Thanks :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Suicidal thoughts, self harm
> 
> I've said it before, and I'll say it again, please be careful while reading this, especially while we are in quarantine and mental health cases are increasing. Stay safe! <3
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos! They make me happy :D

Why would May be calling Mr. Stark? Why didn’t she call Peter? 

Mr. Stark answered the call with a cheerful “Hi, May!” Ignoring the mumbled complaints from Mr. Rogers about rude table manners.

Peter watched as his mentor listened to his aunt. The man gave a few ‘mhmm’s’ and ‘uh-huh’s’ before grinning, which Peter knew was not a good sign. “I completely understand, May. Of course Peter can stay here while you go out of town. It really will not be a problem.” 

It should not have been possible for Peter’s day to get worse. He does not want to stay with Mr. Stark. Why can’t he just stay at their apartment? He’s done it before when May’s had to go out of town for a day. Why is this time any different?

“Earth to Peter?” Mr. Stark waved a hand in front of Peter’s face. 

“Oh, Sorry, Mr. Stark.” Peter took a step back. “W-what did May say?” 

“First of all, this whole ‘Mr. Stark’ business is ridiculous. Call me Tony.” Mr. Stark said, rolling his eyes. “And your unusually attractive aunt is being sent to Oregon for a week as part of a job interview. Something about it being a trial run to see if she is what the company is looking for. So you’ll be staying here while she’s gone. Isn’t that great!” The man ended with a flourish of his hands.

No, Peter thought. No this is not great. He feels like he’s going to snap at any moment, and just wants to go home. He wants to sleep in his own bed, in his room. Sleeping in strange places never works out for Peter. 

He wants to take a shower and let tears mix with the water as they both run down his face. He wants to curl up with one of uncle Ben’s old sweatshirts and just let all of his pent up emotions out. He wants to be able to hear aunt May’s heart beating in the next room, strong and steady. 

But of course, he can’t tell Mr. Stark any of that. Not if he doesn’t want the man to take the suit away again. Instead he chuckles and gives the man a tight-lipped smile. “Ha, yeah. That..that’s great, Mr. Stark.” 

Even Peter could tell how fake that sounded, and based on the way Mr. Stark's face fell a little, so did he.

“So I’m not needed?” Happy questioned, the same annoyed expression on his face as always. He had been waiting for almost twenty minutes to take Peter home. 

“Nope.” Mr. Stark answered, popping the ‘p’ at the end. “I have everything Peter could need for tonight, and then tomorrow you both can get stuff for the rest of the week before he goes to school.” 

That is another problem. Since Ben died, Peter hasn’t been able to sleep without his baby blanket. It’s silly and childish, but it’s something that comforts Peter when nothing else can. He doesn’t have anything else left by his parents. 

“Why can’t we go get my stuff now?” Peter asks before he can stop himself. 

“It doesn’t make sense for Happy to drive you there now just to have to drive you back. When he takes you to school tomorrow he’ll have to pass by your apartment anyway.” Mr. Stark answered as he turned to walk back into the penthouse. 

“Right.” Peter sighed. He’s not going to push it. Mr. Stark has already been asking questions that Peter doesn’t want to answer. There’s no need to give the man more things to be suspicious about. 

Taking a deep breath, Peter has to close his eyes for a few seconds to get a better grip on his emotions. He can’t lose it yet. Not here.

“This will be fun! We can watch a movie tonight!” Mr. Stark suggests, receiving a few excited agreements from the Avengers. “We’ll even let you pick what we watch, Pete.” 

Watching a movie does not sound fun. It would just make his head hurt more. “Um, actually I have to do my homework.” That was a believable excuse, right? It seems like it would be a valid reason. 

“What?” Mr. Stark exclaimed. “Pete, you’re top of your class. I think you can go a few hours without doing homework.” 

Peter tries to act casual and not like his chest is about to explode with anxiety. “I-I know. I just have a lot of work to do.” 

Groaning, Mr. Stark dropped his head. “Ugh, fine.”

Everyone at the table was silently watching the exchange, a mixture of confusion written on all of their faces. The attention made him feel uncomfortable, the air around him suddenly getting very warm. “M-may I be excused?” Peter asks quietly to Mr. Stark. 

“You’ve barely eaten anything.” Mr. Stark pointed out. 

“I know, I just wasn’t very hungry.”

“Nope. Try again. You told me the reason you passed out earlier was because you hadn’t eaten anything. So which one were you lying about?” Mr. Stark sat back, arms crossed in front of his chest. 

Fuck. He’d forgotten about that. 

Something about Mr. Stark demanding answers made anger boil up inside him.“Will you just back off?” Peter snapped, his chair scraping against the wooden floors as he stood. His eyes darted around the table to the heroes. They all were trying to act like they weren’t paying attention.

“Where am I staying?” Peter asked, needed a way out of this situation. His angry outburst was slowly turning to embarrassment, and that would only make it harder to not break down into tears.

“Excuse me?” Mr. Stark was looking at him like Peter had lost his mind. 

“Where am I staying?” He repeated slowly. “I can’t leave, remember?”

“I’ll show you” Ms. Romanov offered, standing from her seat. She picked up her own plate before grabbing Peter’s, putting them both in the sink. “You coming?” She asked Peter, who hadn’t moved. 

Ignoring Mr. Stark's indignant scoff, Peter quickly followed. Ms. Romanov led Peter down a short hallway before opening a door, allowing Peter to enter first. The room was huge. Well, at least to Peter’s standards it was. You could probably fit his and May’s entire apartment in this one room. (that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but the room was giant!) There was a large bed in the middle, with a desk sitting along one wall, and a small sitting area by the floor length window. 

“The bathroom is right through that door.” She points to a door across the room as he walks further in. “Everything you might need toiletry wise will be in the cabinets. Anything that’s not there, just ask FRIDAY. I’m sure we have it somewhere. And there are sweats and t-shirts in the closet.” 

Peter just nodded his head.. 

“Great. Do you need anything else?” Ms. Romanov asked, already heading back toward the door. 

“No, thank you.” 

“If you change your mind on the movie, you’re always welcome to join us.” Ms. Romanov said before shutting the door as she left. 

It didn’t take more than a few seconds for the first tears to fall. He sunk to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest. His body shook as he let sob after sob echo around the room. His breaths came in quick gasps, never enough to fill his burning lungs. 

“You seem to be in distress. Would you like me to inform Mr. Stark?” FRIDAY asked, causing Peter to jump. 

“No. Please don’t tell him.” Peter pleaded. Using the sleeve of his shirt, Peter wiped the tears from his cheeks. It’s a futile attempt, and he gives up quickly. Memories from the day force their way through his mind, the pain that accompanies them taking what’s left of his breath. He doesn’t know how he can do this anymore. He’s tired. He is so fucking tired and Peter is ready to give up. Not tonight, though. He’s already told himself that he wouldn’t do that to May. She deserves better. 

That night Peter doesn’t sleep. He lays in bed, tossing and turning, trying to if there’s anywhere else he can stay while May’s gone. Staying with Mr. Stark for the next week is not going to be fun. 

The next morning, Peter waits to leave his room until Mr. Stark barges in, telling Peter he either needs to eat now, or go to school hungry. He’d rather go to school hungry, but he doesn’t say that. 

Happy drives him to his apartment before school so Peter can get everything he needs for a week away from home. He makes sure to tuck the blanket from his parents deep in the bottom of his duffel, along with a picture of him, May, and Ben. Peter is also careful to hide the materials he needs for work, wrapped in a sweater, just in case anyone looks in his bag. Nobody should be looking in his bag anyway, right?

Peter’s hesitant to leave his duffel with Happy when the man drops him off at school. He’d much rather lug it around school with him. That way he’d know that it was safe. But the man wasn’t having. “Leave the damn bag, Parker. Geez, you’re acting like there’s something valuable or some deep dark secret in there.” Peter quickly drops the bag after that, scooting out of the car. 

“I’m going to patrol right after school, so I don’t need you to pick me up.” Peter tells the man, not really asking for permission. That’s his routine. Just because he’s staying with Mr. Stark doesn’t mean he has to change it. 

“Nope. Tony said to bring you home after school, and that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll be here by the time the final bell rings. Don’t keep me waiting.”

“But that’s what I always do.” Peter explained. “I go on patrol, then stop by the apartment before going to work.”

“Talk to Tony.” Happy sighed, wanting this conversation to be over. “Until he tells me otherwise, I will be here at 3pm, sharp. And I swear, kid, if I have to chase you down again, I will personally make your existence a living hell.”

Rolling his eyes, Peter gets out of the car, glaring at Happy. “Too late, it already is.” He mutters under his breath, shutting the door a little harder than necessary. If this is how Mr. Stark is going to treat him while he stays at the tower, it’s going to be a long week. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


School went by much better than it had the day before. Except for the fact that he didn’t pack a lunch, and didn’t have any money in his lunch account. He thought about using his debit card, but decided against it. While he is making a good amount of money from working, the majority was still going towards catching up on the missed rent, as well as paying the current rent. He can go without lunch for another day. Buying lunch for himself isn’t important. 

Halfway through the day, Peter texted Mr. Stark about going on patrol after school. The only response he got was a simple ‘no’. Peter pleaded, explaining that it is normal for him to go out, and that May would be okay with it. Mr. Stark didn’t reply to the long string of texts Peter sent throughout the rest of school. It was infuriating, and Peter was seriously contemplating going out anyway. 

“Do you think your mom would let me stay with you while May’s gone?” Peter asked Ned during their last class, desperation heavy in his tone. He was grateful Ned wasn’t sick anymore so he has someone to complain to about his situation.

“Dude? Why don’t you want to stay with Tony Stark?” Ned whispered, looking around to make sure no one was listening. “That’s like, the coolest thing ever.”

“I don’t care how cool it is!” Tugging at the ends of his hair, Peter groaned in frustration, dropping his forehead onto the desk in front of him. “Mr. Stark isn’t going to let me do anything. He’s probably still mad that I lied to him yesterday.” 

“You lied to Iron Man?”The look of horror on Ned’s face made it seem like Peter had committed a crime or something. “What did you lie about?”

“I told him that I was hungry, then didn’t eat anything at dinner, and when he asked me about it I said I wasn’t hungry.” Peter explained, purposefully leaving out that part when he passed out. It would only stress Ned out more to know that Peter fainted, especially when Peter wouldn’t tell him why.

“Wow. He must really not like lying if something like that set him off.” Ned furrowed his eyebrows as he wondered out loud. 

Peter was saved from having to reply by the bell ringing. He slowly gathered his things, still trying to decide what he was going to do. Ned left before Peter, wishing him luck with Mr. Stark. As he walked out of the school doors, Peter spotted the shiny black car waiting by the sidewalk. It was a split second decision that made Peter walk in the other direction. At this point, Peter doesn’t care about Happy or Mr. Stark. They’ll get over it...eventually. 

It felt great to be patrolling, the stress and anxiety from the last couple days melting away as he swung around helping people. Peter sat on the ledge of a building, breathing heavily and smiling earnestly after having saved a family from a house fire. He can’t remember the last time he was able to truly smile, without it being forced.

The warmth he was feeling in his chest was washed over with an icy cold as Karen announced that Mr. Stark was calling. Before he could decline the call, she answered. “Peter Parker, if you don’t get your ass back to the tower in the next ten minutes, I’m going to take the suit.” said Tony, anger burning inside him.

Peter swallowed, his mouth dry as his anxieties came rushing back to him, full force. He knows he should agree, but the threat of Tony taking the suit away made Peter angry. “Fine by me.” He said with as much feigned casualty as he could muster. “If that’s all, I’m gonna go back to patrolling.” He had Karen hang up the call before Mr. Stark could reply. 

Immediately, Peter knew he fucked up. Why did he say that? What was he thinking? Did he really just tell Mr. Stark that he could take the suit back? Peter’s head spun as question after question of his own actions swarmed his mind. Oh gosh, he’s so stupid. 

It took Peter a good 20 minutes before he was able to collect himself again. He doesn’t have time to freak out. He’s got an hour before the nightly auction takes place. The only problem is that his work stuff is in his bag, which he left in Happy’s car that morning. Maybe he can sneak into the tower, grab his stuff, and get back out without anyone seeing him? Probably not. 

He does have some extra supplies at the apartment, though. After grabbing his backpack from the place he stashed it, Peter found himself carefully sliding his bedroom window open, both thanking and scolding himself for leaving it unlocked. He hopped in the shower, going about his usual routine of making sure he was extra clean for work. 

Anxiety crept throughout Peter as he showered, his breath becoming hard to catch, and his vision blurring in and out of focus. He needs to calm down, needs to ground himself. Peter grabs the razor blades he’s hidden under the sink, promising himself to cut enough to feel, while making sure the scars will heal in time for work. Doing it in the shower is always his go to, the blood washing down the drain with the running water making for an easy clean up. 

Getting out of the shower, Peter wraps a towel around his waist, and blots the already healing cuts with a gauze, then walks out into the hallway towards his bedroom. He froze when he saw Mr. Stark sitting on the couch, arms crossed as he fixed Peter with a pointed glare. Peter tightened the towel around his waist, deciding to get dressed before the man could yell at him. 

Five minutes later, Peter is leaving his room, bracing himself for the conversation. His eyes landed on his suit folded neatly on the couch, and he knew his fears were coming true. Mr. Stark is taking the suit. His eyes followed as the man picked up the suit, standing from his place on the couch. “Let’s go.” 

“What?” Peter had expected Mr. Stark to yell, not...whatever this is. “I thought..you..where are we going?”

“To the tower. Now let’s go.” The man said more forcefully. 

“I-I can’t.” Peter stuttered. “I have work.” 

“Call in sick.”

“I can’t miss work.”

Mr. Stark fixed him with an exasperated stare, his jaw clenching as he tried not to yell. “You can, and you will. I will personally call your work if I have to, but you are coming back to the tower with me. Now.”

Well, that would be a problem, Peter thinks to himself. Seeing how he doesn’t have an actual place of work, or a boss, Mr. Stark can’t really call anyone from Peter’s work. Sighing, Peter slumps his shoulders. He grabs his backpack, and follows Mr. Stark. He knows he’s already in so much trouble, he may as well start to cooperate. 

The car ride was tense, quiet. Peter was trying to keep himself from panicking. Thoughts about the money he’s missing out on, his suit being taken away, and his now growling stomach, race through his mind. He clenches his hands at his sides, and on the straps of his backpack. He feels like he’s starting to float again, starting to lose control, the ground under his collapsing with each breath. 

The silence fills Peter with dread while guilt seeps into every pore. He pulls his sleeves over his hands, wrapping his arms tightly around his body. He bites his bottom lip, ignoring the taste of blood from it. Closing his eyes tightly, Peter tries to find something to keep him from breaking. 

It drives him crazy how fast his emotions can switch from one extreme to the next. Wasn’t he just pissed at the man sitting next to him? And now he’s fighting against the tears and sobs that want to escape. It’s fucked up. Just like Peter. He shouldn’t be so surprised that there’s something else that’s wrong with him. Everything about Peter is a mess - a fucked up, good for nothing mess. It’s who he is. It’s who he will always be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really meant to get this out sooner than now, but I kind of ran into a mental block. I kept switching between this story and another one I have in the works, but for each one I could get more than a paragraph or two written before I gave up. Anyway, I hope you liked this :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me start by saying that this chapter is short. Like really really short. I apologize!!!! :( I just needed to get something out so yall aren't waiting too long for an update, but I promise to have another (probably short) chapter out early next week as well as a longer chapter next weekend! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!! :)

Tony is at a loss for what to do. He never would have expected Peter to run off the way he did without telling anyone. Then again, the kid’s been in a mood lately and his disappearance is on par for that. It’s just frustrating to Tony because he barely knows the kid. 

Sure, he gave Peter a suit, and he has listened to every voicemail Peter has left Happy. He even cares about the kid, but he really has dropped the ball on looking after him. That’s the whole reason he invited Peter to have lab days. It’s supposed to be a time for Tony to really be invested in Peter’s life, to be a mentor. He’s a good kid, and Tony hates that he ignored Peter for the first little bit. He hates that he originally used Peter for his alter ego, instead of being there for the teen himself.

And now that he is in charge of watching over Peter for a week, Tony is completely out of his league. He doesn’t know how to care for children, especially not when it comes to correcting behavior. Does Tony punish Peter? Does he even get after the kid? Is that something he is authorized to do since May is out of town? How does he go about doing this without ending up like his father?

The fear of being like Howard makes Tony doubt saying anything to Peter, but he knows he needs to. May trusted Tony to watch Peter, which means she trusts him to handle situations like this. He just prays he can do it the right way. 

Pulling the car into the garage, Tony sits in the driver seat, trying to decide where they should have this conversation. He already knows that it needs to be just the two of them. If there’s one thing he knows about Peter, it’s that the kid likes his privacy. That knocks the common room off the list because Thursday night is game night, so the room will be filled with people. 

They could always go to his office or the lab, but the office feels too formal and the lab is Tony’s safe space. Tony may think the whole positive and negative energy hippie shit is stupid, but he isn’t going to risk infecting his safe space with negative energy. 

Tony is deep in thought when the passenger door shuts. He looks over to see that Peter has already left the car. Quickly, Tony follows, calling after the kid. “Hold up, bud.”

Peter’s shoulders deflate as he holds back a groan. He was kind of hoping to get to his room before Mr. Stark could yell at him. The feeling of emptiness has spread through his whole body, and Peter is just so tired. At this point he doesn’t care about any of it. Not the money, or his growling stomach, or even the pending lecture. 

“You don’t want to go up to the penthouse right now. It’s game night.” Tony said as he wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders, leading him to the elevator. “How about we go have a chat up on the roof? It’s quiet and nobody will be around.” 

“Mr. Stark, I know I screwed up, okay?” Peter pleaded. “Can we please just forget about it?”

Sighing, Tony turned Peter to face him. “I can’t do that, Pete. What you did was unacceptable, and I need you to tell me why you did it.”

“I just wanted to follow my routine.” Peter answered honestly. “I always go out for patrol, then go to work. Just because I’m staying with you for a week, it doesn’t mean you get to change that.” 

“Actually, it does.” Tony responded, frowning at the way Peter was starting to get flustered again. “I am in charge of making sure you are safe, and if I don’t know where you are, then I can’t do my job.”

“But you knew where I was going to be.” Peter snapped. He regrets it the moment it happened, because it would only lead to more questioning, and Peter really doesn’t want to fight right now. Taking several deep breaths, Peter tries to get his emotions under control. The garage they are standing in is suffocating. The walls feel like they’re caving in on Peter. He needs air. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

As tears burned in his eyes, Peter tried to turn away so Mr. Stark wouldn’t see, but the man grabbed his arm to hold him in place. The still healing scars stung under the pressure of the man’s grip, causing Peter to let out a yelp of pain, retracting his arm quickly. 

“Did you get hurt?” Tony questioned. He swears, if this kid is hiding an injury from patrol, Tony is going to lose his already frayed mind. Reaching out, Tony gently pulled Peter’s arm closer, carefully sliding the sleeve of his shirt up to his elbow. What Tony saw made him drop the kid’s arm, but his eyes never left the perfectly straight line scarred into Peter’s forearm. “Peter.” He gasped, looking up to see a rush of emotions cross the boy’s face. 

Anger sears through Peter, but not at Mr. Stark. He’s angry with himself for letting the man lift his sleeve. He’s angry that he is the reason Mr. Stark is looking at him with undeserved pity and concern. But most of all, Peter is angry at the tears that are dripping onto his cheeks without his permission. He wipes at them furiously, hoping he can gain the control that he’s losing. 

Now that Mr. Stark has seen the scars, he’s going to tell May, and Peter doesn’t think he can handle seeing the pained look in her eyes when she looks at Peter afterwards. He’s not worth the sadness. He’s not worth anything. 

Sparing one last look at Mr. Stark, Peter tugs his sleeve back down, hurrying out the closest exit. He’s out the door leading into an alley next to the tower. Peter jogs away from the building, not wanting to risk being stopped. He goes for a few blocks, ignoring the strange looks he’s receiving from the people he’s passing. 

Peter doesn’t have a plan for where to go, but he knows he can’t go back to his and May’s apartment. That will probably be the first place Mr. Stark looks. He doesn’t want to think about how much trouble he’s going to be in for this. Mr. Stark already looked so angry, and this is only making it worse. 

Turning a street corner, Peter runs straight into someone. He jumps back, apologizing profusely, checking to make sure the person is alright. The man chuckles, straightening out the front of his shirt. “Ah, it’s not a problem. I should have been watching where I was going.” 

The man looks at Peter for a second, scanning over him with his eyes. Peter wants to squirm under his gaze, but he doesn’t move. Maybe he  _ can _ get paid today. It’s not how he usually finds clients, but the dark glint in the man’s eyes tells Peter enough about the man’s desires. If he can do this one thing for May, then it might make up for being such a burden on her. “So, where is someone as young as you heading this late at night?”

Putting on his innocent doe eyes that he does for all his clients, Peter quirks his lips with practiced ease, despite the ache inside his chest. “Anywhere you want.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short as well, but that's two shorter chapter out sooner, so I don't really feel that bad. 
> 
> As I was writing this, it kind of went in a completely different, slightly darker, direction than I intended it to. I like this new direction, but I had to add a couple tags for it, so make sure you check those out. This change in plans also increases the length of this story a little, so that's a good thing.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and for the positive comments and feedback! I love reading your thoughts and feelings about this! :)

Tony doesn’t even try to stop Peter as he leaves again. He knows it is useless. By the time he gets out the door, Peter will be long gone. Sighing in defeat, Tony slumps against the wall of the elevator, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s starting to get a migraine and he has a feeling it’s only going to get worse. 

Seeing the scars on Peter’s forearm is not what Tony expected to see. He was thinking Peter had gotten injured on patrol, not that the kid had been hurting himself. At least it somewhat explains Peter’s behavior. Not all of it, but some. The lack of appetite, the mood swings, the unusual quietness. They all lead back to depression or some other form of mental health issues. 

That’s the one part of the superhero gig that is unavoidable. The things you see and experience always find a way of coming back to haunt you. Tony should have thought of that sooner. He should have paid more attention and noticed the signs from the beginning. 

His stomach sinks as Tony thinks of all the times over the past few months that gave away Peter’s struggle. Starting with Peter avoiding Happy’s calls. The kid went from calling Happy every day to excitedly chatter about anything and everything, to complete radio silence in just one day. 

Then Peter turned down the offer to be an Avenger, after he had spent months trying to prove to Tony that he could handle it. Tony had really thought that Peter was either being really mature, or super petty because Tony had taken the suit. It was also after the Vulture incident where Spider-Man was reportedly seen crashing with the plane into Coney Island. 

“Fuck”. Tony gasped, realization of what that actually meant hitting him like a freight train. He had been so stuck in his head and worried about his own problems, that Tony didn’t even think twice about that statement. ‘Crashing with the plane.’ Peter was in a plane crash, then proceeded to continue fighting the bastard who was trying to steal alien weapons. Tony has really screwed this thing up with Peter more than he thought. No wonder the kid won’t talk to him. 

The doors open to the living room, temporarily pulling Tony out of his thoughts with a wince as he’s bombarded with questions from his teammates. “Did you find Peter?” “Is he alright?” “Where is he?” 

“He ran off again.” Tony answered briefly, pushing past the group to get some medicine from the kitchen. For having only met the kid once the night before, the group of heroes sure have grown attached. Peter wasn’t even his normal, bubbly, lovable self, and he’s won over some of the most untrusting people Tony has ever met. It must be an effect of the spider bite or something. 

“What do you mean he ‘ran off again’?” Clint asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room. 

“I mean exactly that. We got to the tower, and before we could make it on the elevator he ran out the exit.” Tony is really getting tired of this questioning. He has had enough to deal with on the Peter side of things. He doesn’t need his team to get involved. Knowing them, they’ll go out searching for Peter on their own, and it will only make things worse. “But it’s fine. I’m gonna have FRIDAY track his phone so I can go get him again.”

“Why didn’t you follow him?” Natasha tilted her head to the side, eyeing Tony like she already knew the answer. Which, honestly, she probably does. 

“The kid needed his space to cool off.” Tony partially lied. That’s not the reason he actually let Peter leave, but it’s probably part of the reason why Peter left in the first place. He hates to admit it, but Tony is actually a little grateful he’s had time to himself to clear his head of the initial anger he had been feeling. 

“Do you want us to help look for him?” Steve asked, looking ready to set a game plan if needed. Tony would have found it comical if he wasn’t so worried about Peter. 

Shaking his head, Tony started towards his lab. “No. I’ve got it.”

* * *

  
  


Peter had really thought that having Spider-Man as an alter ego would protect him from predators trying to hurt him. In his mind, he had been so sure that he would be able to fight back if one of his clients attempted to push him beyond his limits. What he didn’t account for is the drugs that had been injected in his neck. 

The moment Peter accepted to go home with the stranger on the street, he wanted to take it back. He never should have ran away from Mr. Stark, he never should have lied about being fine, and he never should have started working as a glorified prostitute. As he laid in the backseat of the dirty van, stripped naked, and tied like an animal, Peter knew there was no hope of surviving. 

Any hope he had was left at the tower with Mr. Stark, and who knows if the man will try to find him again. Peter was nothing but a burden on the billionaire who was only trying to be kind. Mr. Stark didn’t have to invite Peter to work in the lab with him. He didn’t have to agree to watch Peter while May went out of town. But he did anyway. And how did Peter repay him - by being an angsty teenager with an attitude. 

It’s only fitting that this is how Peter’s going to die. The one thing that makes him feel like he has a purpose - like he is more than a walking corpse just taking up space - is the thing that is going to take away that life from him. There is no ‘if’, only ‘when’. 

When he dies, May is going to be left alone to once again mourn the loss of somebody she loves. Peter hopes she finds people who will take care of her, and comfort her. He hopes she doesn’t get lonely living in the apartment by herself, with no other family to fill the silence. And most of all, Peter hopes May will someday forgive him for not being strong enough to fight. 

The car he’s in screeches to a stop, and Peter slams into the back of the driver seat, unable to catch himself. He lets out a grunt of pain, the air in his lungs forced out from the impact. For a while, Peter had tried to memorize the turns they’d taken, but with the drugs blurring his thoughts, and the amount of time they’d spent driving, he lost track. 

The man who took Peter pulls open the back doors, filling the dark space with blinding light. “I almost forgot how pretty you are.” He sneers, eyes roaming Peter’s naked body. “Weston is gonna love you.”

“Please.” Peter pleads, his voice shaking from the effort it took to talk. 

“Don’t waste your breath, kid. Nobody is going to save you.”

Peter is pulled from the van onto a dirt floor. Looking around, Peter whimpers as he takes in the dense forest of trees surrounding a rundown barn on all sides. There is no way anyone could find this place, unless they know exactly where it is. He’s going to be stuck here for the rest of his life - however long that might be. 

It only got worse as Peter was dragged inside the barn, where there are five other people stripped and tied up. Five other people in the same position as Peter. They all look in varying stages of consciousness, littered with bruises and scratches. 

With expressionless stares, the five people watch as Peter is tied to a post between two women. The sense of dread only increases when Peter feels the sting of a needle being pressed into his neck as the man injects more drugs into the teen’s system. 

Once the doors to the barn shut, encasing the room with darkness, the woman to the right of Peter speaks up. “How old are you?” She asks, hesitation clear in her voice. 

“Where are we?” Peter asks instead of answering the question. “What are they gonna do?”

“Calm down, kid. Panicking isn’t going to help anyone.” A man says from Peter’s left. “Just do what they tell you to do, and you’ll be fine.” 

“Luke is right, but you’re young so you have nothing to worry about.” The first woman says. “What’s your name?”

“Peter Parker.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all of you lovely people who are reading this story! I apologize that this is a smidge late, but like, it's still the weekend somewhere in the world, so is it really counted as late?
> 
> Anyway, I have struggled with this chapter all freaking week. When I said that I didn't expect this story to go the way that it has, I really meant that. And I am kind of regretting it, but oh well. :) I am not super happy with this chapter and I hope that you all can forgive me for it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, though! And thank you for all of your comments! They seriously make my day when i read them! 
> 
> Enjoy!

“It’s really not that bad.” Sarah, one of the women Peter is being held captive with, gives a small smile. “It could be a lot worse. They feed us three meals a day, sometimes we get to be untied for an hour or two, and they let us shower every night.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sarah.” Warren complains halfheartedly. “I know you like to ‘look on the positive side’ and all that shit, but there is nothing about this that is good.” 

Even as Peter’s head felt heavy, and his eyes became harder to keep open, he fought against the drugs. The other captives were surprisingly talkative, given the dead-like stares they gave when he first entered the room. They asked him lots of questions, freaked out because “you’re only 15?! Why would they take a kid?”, and were now explaining to Peter what the men want from him. 

“It’s really quite simple,” Warren continued, rolling his eyes as Sarah raised her middle finger. “They assign you to a master, and you please them. You don’t talk, don’t fight, and definitely do not try to get away. The last time someone pissed off their master, they were taken to the back and shot. You’re too young to die, kid. Don’t do it.” 

The nickname woke Peter up a little, an ache filling his chest at the reminder of Mr. Stark. He has so many regrets, so many things he wishes he could do over. There’s things he will never have the chance to make right, and for the first time in months, Peter prays that he will stay alive. 

For May. 

For Ned and MJ. 

For Mr. Stark. 

For these people. 

Peter Parker may not be much by himself, but he’s more than a poor, orphaned, screw up. He’s Spider-Man. If he won’t fight for himself, you can count on him to help these people. They don’t deserve to be held captive as a sex slave. Luke has a two year old son who is learning how to talk. Maggie had just got accepted into NYU as a med student. Warren is the only family left to take care of his elderly mother with Alzheimer. Sarah and her husband were trying to have a baby after she spent years getting sober. And Taylor, he dropped out of high school when he was 16 to escape his abusive parents, and had finally saved up enough money to take online courses so he could get his G.E.D, then go to college to become a social worker, to save other kids from having to go through what he did. 

These people all have things to live for, people who love them, dreams to achieve. They don’t deserve this, and as a superhero, Peter has to save them. As the overused saying goes, with great power comes great responsibility.

Forcing himself to stay awake, Peter only half listened to the advice on ‘how to stay alive here’, his mind flipping into fight mode. Cautiously, he readjusted his position as much as he can, trying to get a feel for the fastest way to break out of the restraints. He tests the durability of the chains, relieved to feel the metal start to give way. 

Next, Peter looks for an exit from the barn. Seeing how the giant doors spanning across one side looked like they would fall from any little breeze, the exit isn’t hard to find.

The only problem Peter can find is what they will do after they get out of the barn. They are seemingly in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by miles of trees on either side. If it was just Peter, then he could make it through the trees without any problem. It was easy enough to move on his own, but with five other people - all of whom have been held captive for anywhere ranging between 10 and 2 months, and haven’t been outside the barn since. The larger the group they travel in, the more likely they are to be caught, but Peter will be damned if he lets any of these people out of his sight before they get to safety. 

“When do they usually come?” Peter asks, interrupting Sarah and Warren’s bickering. If he’s going to do this, he wants to make sure the men don’t try to stop them before he can break everyone else’s restraints. 

“I don’t know. The sun went down an hour ago, so my guess is that we have an hour until the masters arrive.” Maggie answers. “Why?”

Peter takes a second to listen for any outside noise, or people listening in on their conversation. “I have a plan.” 

“We’ve all had plans, kid.” Luke chuckles. “It never works out. Don’t waste your energy.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Seriously, Peter. If you get caught you’ll be punished or killed.”

Annoyed by the belittling tone, Peter just rolls his eyes, and with barely any effort, pulls on his restraints, breaking the metal. “I won’t get caught. So do you want to come with me or not?” Five pairs of wide eyes looked between Peter’s free wrists and the broken chains. 

He didn’t wait for confirmation from the others before he started releasing them from the restraints. As he pulled Warren’s restraints off last, a loud explosion came from outside, shaking the barn dangerously. “Hurry!” Peter yelled - his spider sense warning him of the impending collapse of the building. 

Peter pushes through the barn doors, causing the rotting wood to fly off its hinges. Quickly ducking into the tree line, he doesn’t have time to check if the group is following. Another explosion goes off - this time much closer. 

* * *

  
  


Tony honestly, could not figure out for the life of him, where Peter could be going? He had started tracking the kid’s phone, wanting to wait and see where Peter stops. Now that it's an hour later, and Peter is nearing Connecticut, Tony figures he should probably stop the kid. May did trust him, and letting Peter leave the state unsupervised isn’t very responsible. 

“I’m going to Connecticut.” Tony announced as he walked through the Avenger’s common room, gaining everyone’s attention. Looking at his teammates, Tony’s confused why Steve, Bucky, and Natasha are dressed in their mission clothes. “Where are you all going?”

“Connecticut.” Steve said, raising an eyebrow. “Did FRIDAY tell you about the alert?”

“What alert?” FRIDAY didn’t always inform Tony of the side missions the others were going on, especially if he wasn’t needed. The fact that Peter was currently headed for the same place is just a coincidence. Right? Peter wouldn’t have gone as Spider-Man to stop whatever thing is happening in Connecticut. Right?

But Tony has Peter’s suit. It’s sitting in a ball on one of the tables in the lab, and surely Peter wouldn’t have gone without his suit. The kid is really protective of his secret identity. So why then, is Peter going to Connecticut? Not having any answers to all of his questions was really starting to get on Tony’s nerves. He isn’t freaked out, though. He isn’t. It’s not like he’s imagining the worst, thinking that maybe Peter got caught up in something bad and is being kidnapped or tortured or, or… But no, Tony isn’t freaking out so he doesn’t need to think about that. 

“We got a tip that there’s a human trafficking site just outside of New York. The government would take care of it, but we’ve got intel that a few of the ‘clients’ are ex-HYDRA members.” Natasha answers. “Why are you going to Connecticut?”

“Did you say human trafficking?” Tony chokes out, trying to keep his voice even. Now he is freaking out. Horrible thoughts run through his head, and he can’t stop the nagging feeling that that’s exactly where Peter is headed. “I have to go.” 

He rushes out to the landing pad before anyone can stop him, his suit wrapping around his body from the holding unit in his chest. “FRIDAY, pull up Peter’s location. Hack into his phone and turn on his camera and microphone.” The silence from his A.I. felt very judgmental, scaring Tony just a little as to how responsive she has become. “Don’t judge me, Fri. I need to make sure he’s safe. I don’t care if it’s an invasion of privacy.” 

“I didn’t say anything, Boss.” FRIDAY said, but the mock innocence in her robotic voice was clear. “I’m pulling up Mr. Parker’s location now.” 

The little red dot indicating where Peter is, blinked eerily in Tony’s mind, taunting him. Peter is on the other side of that dot and Tony fears he won’t get to him in time. He wants to save Peter from being raped, or forced into sex-work. He wants to save the little bit of innocence left in the once bright eyes of the teenager. He wants to save Peter from any more trauma that will add to the pain the kid already feels.

His attention is drawn next to a new screen. This one is mostly dark, but the voice he hears is loud. “-came with me so easily. He didn’t even fight when I threw him in the back. I think Weston is really gonna like him.” The words make Tony’s stomach twist and turn. That isn’t Peter’s voice on the other end. “Nah, he’s young, but he is definitely a prostitute. I’ve seen him picking up clients from that area for a couple weeks. I think he plays into the young age, getting more money out of it or something.” 

“Mute it, FRIDAY.” Prostitute? Maybe this isn’t Peter that the person is talking about. Peter’s 15, he has a job, and he’s Spider-Man. Then again, what does he know about the kid’s job? Peter says that he stocks shelves at a grocery store, but he’s never said which one. Checking that out wouldn’t be a bad idea. Just to satisfy Tony’s curiosity, if nothing else. “Fri, will you do some research for me, and figure out where exactly Peter works?”

“Yes, Boss.” She replies dutifully. Tony knows he could call May and ask her, but he doesn’t want to worry her if this turns out to be nothing - he’d rather have his A.I illegally hack into confidential information. After a few minutes of silence, FRIDAY speaks again. “I am sorry Boss, but I can’t find any record of Mr. Parker’s employment.” 

And oh shit, Tony hates being right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all. Guess who wrote a 5 page essay, took 2 quizzes, and wrote 80% of this chapter today? I did! And, I did it while running off of 3 hours of sleep and babysitting 6 kids (one of which is a baby). As crazy as that sounds, it's actually one of the easier days of my week. Life is hectic, people! I won't complain to you all, but I will say that this week is going to be SOOO much busier than last week. Between a wedding, my birthday, and school, I won't have much free time to write, so I might be a little late getting the next chapter out.
> 
> Anyway, that's all for this little ramble session. I'm honestly just procrastinating posting this chapter because, like I said, it's not my favorite....
> 
> Well, Thanks again for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally this stressful week is over! The wedding was beautiful, and my birthday is one of the best I've ever had (yes, it was on the same day as the wedding. That's why it was so fun ;D ). My nephew also accidentally stepped on my cake, which was hilarious! It was only a corner and the rest of it was still edible, so it was all good! 
> 
> Anyway, here is chapter 7!! This was a real struggle for me to actually want to write it. I actually started 3 other stories as a way of procrastinating this one. But, I got this chapter done and I am (just barely) happy with it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading :)

Even at top speeds, Tony feels like he is moving slower than a turtle. No matter how much power FRIDAY puts into his thrusters, he just isn’t moving fast enough. The A.I. has estimated twenty more minutes before Tony reaches the location of Peter’s phone. Thankfully, the tracker stopped moving, which means wherever Peter is going, he’s arrived. For now.

Or someone tossed the phone, and now Tony has no way of finding the kid. According to FRIDAY, the tracker is leading them to the middle of nowhere, so that’s not helping Tony’s not-so-miniature freak out session. 

But he can’t be thinking like that. If he lets himself succumb to the panic rising in his chest, Tony will be useless in finding Peter. Taking a couple deep breaths, Tony decides to call May. He doesn’t really want to, but she might know something that Tony doesn’t. At this point, any possible assistance Tony can get, he’ll take it. 

“Tony?” May answers after the second ring. There’s an edge of panic in her voice, and it makes him feel bad for adding to it. “Is Peter okay?”

“There’s a bit of a situation. Peter left the penthouse over an hour ago, and is now in Connecticut. I’m going to get him, but I need something from you.” Tony says honestly, not bothering to sugar coat it. 

“Wait, what? I-”

“May.” Tony cuts her off quickly. “I will explain more later, but I need to know; did you know that Peter’s been lying about where he works?”

“He’s been what?!” May shrieks into the phone, causing Tony to wince at the sudden noise. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, May.” Tony sighs. “Peter’s been acting really strange this whole time. It’s only been a day, but I feel like he’s hiding something. And it’s not just his job. Peter’s been hurting himself. I saw the scars earlier.” 

May gasps but otherwise stays quiet. She doesn’t say anything for a while, the silence lingering eerily over the line. “May?”

“I’m coming back.”

“Wait, May. What about your job?” Tony knows fighting her on this is pointless. If the roles were switched, he’d drop everything to help Peter. The kid deserves so much better than what the universe has given him. 

“I don’t give a rats ass about my job. This is my kid, Tony. I’m coming back.” May said with a tone of finality. “Bring him back, Stark.” She then hung up, leaving Tony to his thoughts again. Tony has already failed once at keeping Peter safe, and he is willing to give everything to prevent that from happening again. 

When he gets Peter back, Tony swears he’ll never let the kid out of his sight. Except, that’s not Tony’s place. He isn’t anything to Peter but a mentor. Maybe; if he can even call it that. What if Peter doesn’t want Tony in his life anymore? After the last 24 hours, Tony wouldn’t blame the kid if he hates him. 

It’s dramatic thinking, but Tony doesn’t want to go back to not having Peter around. The kid, through the limited contact they had since their first meet, somehow wormed his way into Tony’s heart. Honestly, it doesn’t make sense why Tony is so protective of Peter. Wasn’t he the one who kept the kid at arm's length? 

He blames the voice messages. Peter’s excitement over helping people - no matter how small of a task - was contagious and pure. The teenager is too good for this cruel world, and Tony knows just how much being a hero can drag someone down. They’re out on the front lines, seeing all the bad around them, knowing they can’t save everyone. But Peter still tries. He still believes he can do it all, and Tony doesn’t want him to lose that innocence. 

Tony was subjected to the world’s harshness from a young age, and he never had a chance to be a kid. To live a normal life. He just wants to guard Peter from the painful truths of reality just a bit longer, guard him from losing the brightness that shines in his eyes.

But Tony’s already lost that battle. Peter is better at hiding how much he’s hurting than anyone ever expected from him. The scars are proof of that. With his metabolism, the cuts should have been healed, but even after an hour's drive from Peter’s apartment to the tower, the shallow cuts hadn’t even fully closed. Which means the kid had done it enough for his body to register it as normal, and not as something urgent to be fixed. 

“Boss, we are here.” FRIDAY announces, drawing Tony’s attention back to the task at hand; finding Peter. 

The only issue is that from where Tony is hovering above the densely packed trees, he can’t see anything that could point to Peter, and there isn’t any place where he can fly through. “I don’t see anything, Fri. Scan for heat signatures.”

“There are two people directly below you, six people approximately 600 feet to the right, and a dozen others scattered around the perimeter.” The A.I says as the signatures pop up on his HUD. Okay, Tony thinks. He can handle that. It’s, what, 20 people max? And hopefully - oh Lord please - one of them is Peter. 

In less than a minute, Tony has a plan for how to attack. He’ll start with the perimeter guards, taking them out one at a time. Then he can take out the smaller group of two before moving to the six people. And if...no. When. When he finds Peter, they’ll hightail it out of there, leaving the rest for the team (because he knows them well enough to know that they are coming) to take care of. 

Tony is moving to take out the first guard, when he sees something flying towards him. He barely manages to dodge the object as it shoots past mere inches from his head. He watches as the object hits the top of a tree, exploding on impact. “Oh, Shit!” He yells, flying higher as another explosive is launched at him. 

“FRIDAY? Where are they coming from?”

Instead of answering, FRIDAY lights up a section on his screen to show one of the guards to his left, holding a large weapon. Tony doesn’t hesitate to fire his repulsor at the man, smirking when it hits him square in the chest. The explosions got the attention of the other guards, and Tony can hear several different orders being given as he weaves to dodge another bomb. 

One of the many voices Tony hears catches his attention. “Peter! Fuck! Come on, kid! You gotta wake up!”

No. No, please not Peter. Tony rushes to the voices, stopping when he sees a group of people - naked people. What the hell? - surrounding an equally naked Peter. “Kid!” He shouts, landing a few feet behind the group. He rushes out of his suit, pushing his way through the people to land in his knees next to Peter. 

Peter’s chest and stomach are covered in burns, and there’s a large gash on his side where blood is pouring onto the ground. But all Tony can focus on is the pale of Peter’s face, as the kid blinks slowly up at him. “Peter?”

“Mr. Stark.” Peter slurs, a small smile on his lips. “You came to save me.”

“Yeah, kid. I’m here to save you.” He says, brushing Peter’s hair out of his face. “I have to move you, okay?”

“It hurts, Mr. Stark.” 

“I know, Pete. But we have to go. I don’t know how much time we have.” Tony emphasizes his point by checking the surrounding area. The other people are still standing around, huddled together as they look at Peter with scared looks on their faces. 

“Is he going to be okay?” One of the women asks. 

“Yes.” Tony answers, determined. He isn’t going to let Peter be anything but okay. “I’m going to take him. You all need to hide. The rest of the Avengers are coming, they’ll be here soon.” 

Tony doesn’t wait for them to reply. He lets his suit encase him again, before he carefully scoops Peter into his arms, lifting the kid into the air. “Mr. Stark?” Peter asks as they fly away. “I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, let's not talk about that now. We can talk later.” 

“I know. But just in case. Just in case I don’t make it, I’m sorry.” Peter’s eyes slip closed as he loses the battle to stay conscious. 

* * *

  
  


Peter’s been lying in the hospital bed pretending to be asleep for half an hour, listening in on Mr. Stark and May talking. They’re talking about him. No matter how much they whisper, Peter can still hear them. 

When he first woke up, he had been hoping that it had all been a bad dream. But the pain in his side is too real to be fake. According to Tony, the people who took Peter, where part of a large human trafficking ring. The Avengers had been planning to raid the site, and that’s how Tony knew Peter was in trouble, because the tracker in his phone was leading to the same place as the raid. 

What kind of idiotic kidnappers don’t throw out their victim’s phone? Peter knows that’s not where his focus should be, but it’s the thought that keeps running through his head. Were the men hoping to be caught? Don’t they know that phone trackers are one of the first things the police use when trying to locate missing persons? He can’t complain, though. Their stupidity saved his life. 

Guilt washes over Peter when he hears May’s quiet sob as Mr. Stark explains how Peter hasn’t actually been working at a grocery store, but instead has been soliciting himself as a prostitute. He’s screwed this all up so much. How is May going to forgive him? 

“I don’t know what to do.” May confesses in a whisper. “I feel like I’ve failed him.”

“You didn’t, May. You’ve given him everything. Peter lied to all of us. You couldn’t have known.” Mr. Stark comforts. 

“But he shouldn’t have been working in the first place.” May cries. “I am supposed to take care of him. Not the other way around. I never should have let him work.” 

“It’s not your fault. And you know Peter wouldn’t want you blaming yourself.” 

Mr. Stark is right. Peter doesn’t want May to blame herself for his stupid choices. He knew from the very beginning that he shouldn’t have taken the job, but he had been so hungry, and had been willing to do anything to get a decent meal. 

His Aunt shouldn’t have to put up with someone as broken as Peter. She should get to live a happy life without stressing over a teenager who should be able to take care of himself. And Peter only made it worse when he was trying to help.

Then there’s Mr. Stark. He already took Peter’s suit, so he doesn’t understand why the man is still there. He doesn’t have any obligation to stick with Peter. Why hasn’t he left yet? Surely, Mr. Stark has better things to be doing than sitting at the bedside of a fucked up teenager. 

Nobody should have to deal with him. No one should have had to save Peter from his own messed up shit. It’s not fair to them that Peter has issues. Maybe things would be better without him. Maybe he should leave. Maybe he should kill himself. Before he can stop himself, Peter whimpers at that thought. He doesn’t want to go. Not really. But if it means other people being happy, then he will. 

“Peter?” May calls softly, wiping tears from Peter’s cheek that he didn’t know where there. “Peter, baby, I know you’re awake. Open your eyes for me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, side note, the last chapter might take a bit longer to come out. It might be two weeks instead of one before I post, but because I need to re-find my motivation for this story, so that I actually give it a good ending. So thanks in advanced for being patient!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than I expected to get out, but here is the end. Finally! :)
> 
> Thanks to everyone for reading this story and especially to those who left a kudos or comment! Y'all have been so supportive and I really appreciate it!

May wants to talk. Mr. Stark wants answers. The Avengers are a bunch of hovering, nosy people. 

_ That’s not fair _

The Avengers, for whatever reason, have decided that they like Peter and they want to make sure he’s okay. It’s not like they are meaning to drive him crazy by not leaving his side. No one has left the Med Bay since Peter woke up, except to get food or go to the bathroom. It’s infuriating. Peter doesn’t even know them. He ate one dinner with them the night before, and they think they have a right to know about Peter’s issues? 

_ Breathe.  _

He has to remind himself. The awkward tension is really getting to him. May hasn’t stopped crying. Mr. Stark literally will not take his eyes off of Peter. It’s like he thinks Peter will disappear if he even blinks. Then there is Mr. Wilson who is currently spouting a bunch of psychiatric bullshit to make everyone feel better about the situation. 

_ Why won’t they just leave? _

Peter isn’t paying attention to any of it. It’s all fuzzy background noise trying to distract him from the ugly truth. 

He’s alive. 

Peter is alive and everyone knows his secrets. 

The one thing Peter felt like he had control over is gone. While he was dying under the pressure of hiding his problems, at least he was able to control who knew his secrets. 

He can’t hide anymore. He can’t sweep it all under the rug and pretend like it didn’t happen. May is going to make him talk. She’ll probably make him see a professional, which just leads to more talking. Well Peter doesn’t want to talk. He’s tired. He’s so fucking tired, and Peter wishes he would have died. 

_ You don’t mean that. _

Doesn’t he though? Peter hates all of this, and there is no escape. At least, not when he’s alive. Wouldn’t everyone’s lives be so much simpler if they didn’t have to worry about him? May wouldn’t have to stress about taking care of him. Mr. Stark wouldn’t have any obligation to have him around anymore. 

But he’s not dead, and they are stuck with him. 

Peter’s been staring at the same scar on his wrist for the past hour with only one thought running through his head. He should have pushed harder when cutting. 

“We should have seen this sooner.” Steve sighs, like he forgot he’s only known Peter for 24 hours. 

“You don’t know me.” Peter snaps, emphasizing each word. “I know you all mean well, but you don’t know me. So could you stop pretending like you do? Stop pretending like you care. Stop pretending like I’m important, because I’m not! I don’t matter, so will you all just get out?” 

Breathing heavily from his outburst, Peter tries to calm himself down. He didn’t mean to yell, it was just too much. No one else should have to put up with him. It’s easier for everyone if they don’t get attached. People always leave in the end, and Peter’s lost enough people. 

May sits next to Peter on his bed, wrapping her arms around him and pushing his head to lay on her shoulder. It’s just the two of them left in the room. “I’m sorry, baby. I should have made them leave sooner.” 

“But that’s the problem.” Peter says, looking at his aunt with tear filled eyes. “You shouldn’t have to worry about me. I’m not worth it.” 

“I’m always going to worry about you, Peter.”

“Well stop!” Pulling away from May, Peter curls in on himself, holding his knees to his chest.

“No.” May gently grasps Peter’s chin, lifting until he meets her determined eyes. “You don’t get to choose who cares about you. Me, Tony, the Avengers - the Avengers, Peter! We all care about you. You can yell at us all you want, but we will always be here.”

“You’ve already given up so much. You deserve to be happy without having to deal with me.” Peter whispers, feeling guilty for the burden he is to his aunt. “You didn’t ask for this. It’s not fair to you.” 

Sighing, May lets go of Peter’s chin, letting her hand fall back to her lap. “I didn’t ask for this.” May agrees. “I didn’t ask for a kid when I wasn’t ready to have my own. I didn’t ask to have to change my whole life for this kid. I didn’t ask to love this kid more than I thought possible. I didn’t ask for my kid to become a selfless, self-sacrificing superhero. But damn it, Peter. I can’t imagine my life any other way. I don’t  _ want _ to imagine my life any other way.”

_ Liar _

Every part of Peter wants to believe her, wants to accept what May is saying as truth, but he can’t. She’s saying what she needs to say to make Peter feel better. He was kidnapped and she feels bad. Peter started working because May lost her job; it only makes sense that she would want to blame herself. It’s not her fault though. She thought Peter had a normal job. He lied to her, just like she is lying to him now - to make each other feel better. 

The door to the Med Bay opened, saving Peter from having to respond. He doesn’t know what he was going to say to May. Telling her the truth would only lead to him feeling more guilty than he already feels, and the cycle would start all over again. Peter’s done with the cycle though, so he stays quiet. 

“I finally got them to go to the penthouse.” Tony chuckles awkwardly, sitting back in the seat he occupied before Peter yelled at them. “I don’t know how you did it kid, but they adore you.” A few months ago, that statement would have made Peter blush, and maybe have an internal freak out. Now, it makes him feel sick. 

Throwing the blankets aside, Peter pushes past the two adults as he rushes to the bathroom. “Peter!” May calls frantically as she follows him. Slamming the door, Peter quickly flips the lock before lunging for the toilet. 

With nothing in his stomach, Peter just dry heaves, his stomach contracting over and over again. Tears spill down his cheeks as he tries and fails to catch his breath. “Peter!” Pounding on the door shoots pain through his head, his hand clamping over his ears as his body continues to try to vomit nothing. 

“S-stop.” He whimpers, letting himself fall against the door and his vision starts to blur. “Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.” 

* * *

  
  


May stopped trying to get Peter to talk. Mr. Stark stopped asking questions. The Avengers didn’t come back to check in on Peter. Everyone left him alone.

While it was nice, Peter also hated it. When May pushed for Peter to say something, and Mr. Stark bombarded him with questions, he could at least pretend they actually cared. The only sliver of hope he has of them not leaving him is that neither of them have left the Med Bay since the “incident”. 

That’s what they call it when they think Peter is sleeping. In their hushed voices, they talk to each other about what to do next or how to approach confronting Peter. The conversations usually end with an agreement to talk to him once he’s out of the Med Bay. Peter would find that comforting, to know that he has time to figure out what he is going to tell them, if it weren’t for his growing sense of anxiety at the prospect of what’s to come. 

If he’s being honest, Peter pretends to be asleep more than he actually sleeps so that he can over hear what May and Mr. Stark are saying. He feels more prepared when he knows the unfiltered truth about what they want from him.

Peter has been fine sitting in silence for the past two days, but he’s had enough. He’s done having the adults talk about him like he’s incapable of making his own decisions. After faking sleep for the third time that day, hearing May and Mr. Stark talking about sending him to a mental health facility to help with his depression and suicidal thoughts, he can’t keep quiet anymore.

“I’m not going.” He says softly, sitting up in the hospital bed.

“Y-you’re not going?” May questions, startled by Peter’s sudden awakening. “Not going where?”

“To the facility.” Peter clarifies, trying not to show how anxious he’s feeling now that he's spoken up. 

Freezing, May looks at Peter like a deer in headlights. “You weren’t supposed to hear that. We were just talking through options.” 

“Were you listening that whole time?” Mr. Stark squints his eyes at him, like someone trying to solve a puzzle. 

“That’s what you focus on?” Peter asks. “I say that I don’t want to go to a mental hospital and you worry about the fact that I was listening to your conversation?”

“No.” Mr. Stark shakes his head, answering calm. “I’m just curious what other conversations you’ve listened to. What else do you not want to do that we’ve talked about?”

Shrugging guiltily, Peter drops his gaze to his lap. “You were talking about me. I just wanted to know what you really thought without having to pretend to be nice.” 

“And what did you learn?”

“I don’t know.” Peter sighs, trying not to let his anxiety overrun his thoughts. “You both just talked about how to help me. And I like to think that you actually care, but…” 

“But what, sweetie?” May asks, squeezing his hand comfortingly.

“It doesn’t make sense.” Biting his lip, Peter glances at both adults, trying to fight back tears. “I lied. For months I’ve been lying about everything, and I’ve just been one more thing that you’ve had to worry about. I-I’m too much work. I’m too broken to fix. I don’t get why you don’t just leave.” 

Peter’s words lingered in the air as May and Mr. Stark understood what he was saying. He’s giving them an out; an opportunity to run for the hills and never look back. Mr. Stark is the first to break the silence. 

“You know, I was 15 when I started college. Howard sent me to live on campus because he didn’t want me around the house anymore. I thought it was the best thing to happen to me. The idea of going to college parties and doing college things sounded like fun. And it was, don’t get me wrong, but it was at those parties that I started drinking. I used alcohol to run away from what I believed to be the truth; that my father didn’t want me. Since then, I’ve learned otherwise, but at the time my coping method was to drink the days away.”

“My partying days lasted long after I graduated from college. Everyone thought I was just wild and having fun, but I wasn’t really enjoying it. I put on a facade for the public, and did everything in my power to ignore that I was drowning on the inside. If it weren’t for Pepper, I would probably still be the person the tabloids like to portray me as.” 

“But Pepper, for some reason I still have yet to figure out, stuck by my side. She didn’t give up on me even when I threatened to fire her or yelled terrible things at her. She didn’t leave when I hit rock bottom. She didn’t deserve to have to put up with my shit. Hell, she still deserves better than me.” 

“Behind the scenes, away from the paparazzi and press, my life was a mess. Everything felt broken, like it was shattered into a million pieces with no hope of piecing it back together. I expected the worst to happen, because that was how it seemed to work for me. I was constantly waiting for the day Pepper would leave, but she never did. When I asked her why she didn’t, she told me one thing. She said, ‘I see the good in you. I see the parts worth sticking around for.’”

“And just like Pepper saw that in me, I see it in you too, kid. Right now, you’re struggling, but you aren’t broken or unfix-able. I’m pretty sure I speak for both myself and May when I tell you that we aren’t going anywhere. You are worth it to us.”

Tears glide freely down Peter’s cheeks as he, for the first time in months, feels like someone actually cares. The little voice in the back of his head telling him he’s wrong is still there, but it’s quieter. Pushing back the doubt, Peter lets himself believe what Mr. Stark is saying is true. He lets himself believe that he isn’t alone and that maybe, just maybe, he’ll be okay. 

“I’m not leaving, baby.” May says as she wraps her arms around Peter in a hug, pressing a kiss to his temple as she does so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan to continue a little with this story, but in one-shots as part of a series. There are still a few things I want to cover as part of Peter's healing process like a real conversation with May, therapy and working things out with the Avengers. 
> 
> Also, I don't really do too much when it comes to re-reading or editing, so if you see any major typos or grammar mistakes, please let me know! Thank you! :D

**Author's Note:**

> FOR UPDATES: I won't be updating as often as I have with other stories. I have a lot of prompts that people have asked me to fill, so I am working on those in between my weekly Saturday updates for this story. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading! :)


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